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April 4, 2010
SEVEN WORDS
1.
"Two others also, who were
criminals, were lead away to be put to death with him. When they came to
the place that is called the Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the
two criminals, one on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said,
'Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.' And
they cast lots to divide his garments."
(Luke 23:32-34)
I can think of no words
more remarkable and miraculous than these words of Jesus to which Luke
testifies:
"Father, forgive them for they
know not what they are doing."
Crucifixion, by design was
a torturous and excruciating death.
It was Roman execution and Jesus was crucified as an
enemy of the state - of Rome and its temple collaborators. The only
thing Jesus was guilty of was non-violent resistance to oppression which
was no crime at all, at least in the Kingdom of God.
But the powers of the world conspired to do away with him.
Luke's community
experienced an amazing forgiving love in Jesus that could even
forgive the oppressors who dominated their lives and crucified Jesus..
On the one hand, Jesus death on the cross was an indictment of
Rome and its system of oppression. But
on the other hand, his astounding forgiveness was a recognition of
their oppressor’s humanity.
It was this very kind of love that motivated has people down
through the ages; people,
resembling Jesus, who protested oppression, but never lost sight of the
humanity of their oppressors.
Ultimately these are words
of incredible hope because the world so desperately needs this
kind of love. When will
endless cycle of war ever come to an end?
When will rhetoric that fosters hatred and violence ever cease?
When will centuries long animosities fade away?
When will swords be beaten into plowshares once and for all?
I believe only when
something radically new
is injected into the cycle of escalating violence.
That's what Jesus did.
He injected something radically new - forgiving love - love of
the oppressed for the oppressor.
He took a radical first new step in the face of the cycle of
violence.
I saw a video produced by
the ELCA on the Palestinian/Israeli conflict.
I was impacted by something a Palestinian clergyperson
said. He said, and I
paraphrase,
"No one on either side is willing
to put down the sword of revenge.
No one on either side is willing to take a first risky step
towards forgiveness and reconciliation.
No one sees it as their responsibility.
No sees the humanity of the other."
"Father forgive them, for
they know not what they are doing."
Therein lies the first step.
Therein lies the hope.
2.
"One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and
saying, 'Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!' But the other
rebuked him, saying, 'Do you not fear God, since you are under the same
sentence of condemnation?' And we indeed have been condemned justly, for
we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done
nothing wrong.' Then he said, 'Jesus, remember me when you come into
your kingdom.' He replied, 'Truly I tell you, Today, you will be with me
in Paradise'" (Luke 23:39-43)
The word for "criminal" in
Greek, kakourgos,
was a word that was commonly
used for someone engaged in armed resistance against Rome.
Jesus was crucified for being an enemy of the state.
It only makes sense that to drive home the point, the Romans
would crucify Jesus with others who were being executed for violent
crimes against the state.
The thing about it is we know that Jesus did not take up arms.
His tactics were non-violent and ultimately loving.
A moment ago, I said that he never lost sight of his oppressors
humanity.
According to Luke, one of the two crucified with him mocked him saying,
"If you are the Messiah then save
yourself and us."
But the other showed a measure of repentance asking to be remembered.
I
read this encounter metaphorically.
Matthew, Mark and John make no mention of the
repentant criminal, just that he was crucified between the two.
Only Luke mentions this.
I believe this is Luke's way to make a point. The unrepentant
criminal represents those who would use violence to overthrow violence;
those who would allow the oppressor to set the agenda of
response.
Luke's repentant criminal, this one who saw the futility of resorting to
violence to overthrow violence, is Luke's way of affirming the
non-violent nature of the way Jesus resisted oppression and evil.
It is Luke's way of proclaiming
that the very heart of Jesus, who revealed the heart of God,
is a heart of non-violence and inclusive love for both
oppressed and oppressor.
We can never justify putting a weapon in Jesus’ hand as many have done
down through history. The
way of non-violence, the way Jesus chose, is the only way that is
able to overcome oppression and evil without creating new forms
of oppression and evil that turn the oppressed into the new oppressors.
3.
"Meanwhile, standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and
his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When
Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her,
he said to his mother, 'Woman, here is your son.' Then he said to the
disciple, 'Here is your mother.' And from that hour the disciple took
her into his own home." (John 19:26-27)
We cannot even begin to
imagine what was going on in Mary's heart and soul as she stood and
watched her son die. We cannot imagine her pain and anguish. We can only
guess what images and memories must have flooded into her thoughts.
Maybe she thought of that
first time they went into the temple to dedicate her newborn son, and an
old man named Simeon appeared and sang a glorious song about her baby
child and then he said such a haunting thing to her, he said,
"This child is destined for the falling and rising of many in Israel"
-- and then he looked at Mary and said, "And a sword will pierce
your own soul as well."
I'm sure many times when he
preached and proclaimed the Kingdom of God, Mary was one of the faces in
the crowd.
So many memories... so much
pain... so much grief! Is there no limit to the sheer brutality
that humanity will commit upon each other when they are ordered or when
the lust for blood has possessed them – and when they stop thinking for
themselves and become the pawns of others.
And then John writes, that
Jesus in the midst of his suffering, acknowledges his mother... He
affirms her and perhaps thought of her loneliness in the days ahead.
He saw the "disciple whom he loved standing next to her" and he
said, "Woman, behold your son... Behold you mother."
In an act of love he linked together his mother and his friend.
It was an action that created a
new community.
To me this is the point
John is making. I don’t
presume to understand all of what this word might mean, but one thing it
says to me is God doesn't love us in general. God's love isn't some
great theological principle. But
God's love, as high and as wide and as deep as it is, is very
personal... very close... very intimate... touching us at those
hidden places of desperation... those concealed places of profound
need.. those places of deep grief - and - that Jesus continues to
minister to us, and we continue to experience him through the community
he has left behind; and in the bonds that exist between us.
Look into your neighbor’s
face! See you brother… see
you sister… in Christ! See
the face of Jesus!
4.
"When it was noon darkness came over the whole land until three
in the afternoon. At 3 o'clock Jesus cried out with a loud voice, 'Eloi,
Eloi, lema sabachthani?' which means 'My God, My God, why have you
forsaken me?'"
(Mark 15:33-34)
These words that Jesus
cried were not his own. He was quoting a psalm, Psalm 22 to be
exact. "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"
Psalm 22
in its entirety is a prayer to God for deliverance from fatal
circumstance. It's a prayer that first of all, acknowledges the real
pain and the real agony and the real suffering of the
person's situation. But as the prayer goes on, the victim, who was
feeling helpless and spent, begins little by little to be empowered.
At the end of the prayer the
victim is filled with hope once again and acknowledges trust in God.
"My God, my God, why have
you forsaken me?"
It's the first line of a prayer (Psalm 22) that begins in
despair and ends in hope!
What does it mean for you
and me? Well, it means when you and I visit our places of despair,
whatever they may be; whether they be self-made or we're hurled into it
by circumstance or a combination of both - it means even in despair we
are not out of the presence of God - and that the experience of despair
need not be the final paragraph of the last chapter of our story, but
yet there is always more to be written.
Perhaps it was a way those early faith communities remembered
that the cross was not the last chapter to be written, but there was
more to come…
Some strains of Gnosticism
taught that Jesus could not have had a real body, but only the illusion
of a body. It was said that when Jesus walked his feet left no
footprints. They went on to argue that God cannot experience suffering,
so Jesus really didn't suffer, and he went through life and death
without real pain!
John wrote his gospel in
part as a response to this philosophy.
John wants his readers to know that Jesus' life and death was
real... agonizingly real...
excruciatingly real. This wasn't play-acting, magic, or illusory, but
this was real love... this was suffering love embedded in the
human experience.
In our time, sometimes I
hear Jesus described in a way that implies that he was really a
souped-up human, a
hyper-human, more than human,
God masquerading as a human.
If that is the case, then Jesus had an
advantage over you and
me that we do not have. A
souped-up Jesus ceases to be a credible human being.
When Jesus invites me to live his kind of life, how can I do that
if he was more than mortal and I am merely mortal?
When we talk about Jesus' divinity at the expense of his
humanity, we lose track of the utterly remarkable human being that he
was. If we think that
his wisdom, compassion, courage and commitment were the result of his
divinity, that puts them out of my reach and my experience.
But, if we embrace Jesus in
another way, that is he was a human being who was full of God
and full of the Spirit of God, that changes everything.
"I thirst," said Jesus.
It was John's way of declaring that Jesus wasn't play-acting - he
was real. It also means that
he wasn't deluding anyone when he issued challenges like,
"Take up you cross and follow me."
"Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you."
"Do to others as you would have them do to you."
"If anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also."
It means these things
were not out of our reach.
"I thrist."
Yes, and so do we, and the quenching of our thirst is to follow Jesus
into his kind of life.
6.
"When Jesus had received the wine, he said, 'It is finished.'
Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit." (John 19:30)
"It is finished" was Jesus'
final word from the cross according to John. But, it wasn't a cry
of weary defeat; it wasn't merely a statement of the obvious that his
life was coming to an end.
It was more a shout of
completion in the fullest sense of the word.
He had remained faithful to proclaiming and embodying the Kingdom
of God and faithful to love's imperatives to the very end.
For John he was like a light
shining in the darkness; the bread of life; the light of the world.
Jesus had embodied the way of the cross and self-giving love.
All that he had experienced
couldn't break his ultimate trust in God's love... for him... and
for the world... and he lived it, and he loved it until his last breath.
He had lived what St. Frances,
for example, would come to know centuries later through Christ when he
declared in his great prayer,
“it is giving that we receive.”
He had committed his life
for the sake of the Kingdom of God and all that it means; demonstrating
that there is power stronger and
more life-giving than fear and hatred, oppression and domination.
I am reminded of something
the apostle Paul said in his letter to the Philippians:
“I am confident of this,” he wrote them, “that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to
completion…”
"It is finished."
Jesus brought God’s work to completion in the life he lived.
They are truly words that instill confidence in us – for as we
follow Jesus on the road he leads us, we can know that the work of
God’s love that has begun in us will come to completion as well…
Luke says the
curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The
curtain was the drape that hid the Holy of Holies, that sacred place
beyond description where it was believed God was especially present; a
place isolated from the rest of the world. No person could ever
enter the Holy of Holies except the High Priest, and he only once
a year, on the great Day of Atonement - to make sacrifice for sin. But
Luke says the curtain was "ripped in two,"
reduced to rags!
The message was crystal
clear. The temple aristocracy were
no longer to mediate
God's grace. The
distribution of God's grace was
no longer to be rationed-out like it was in short supply, and
of course, only to the defined-deserved.
No longer would God's most serious business of love occur
behind curtains and closed doors, in secret and isolation.
God won't be sequestered any more. Grace was officially set loose
in the world, turning up in the most unlikely places, even in this most
profane place of death and execution.
Do you see the message
here? The lines between the
sacred and profane have been blurred; no longer so distinct. It is not
clear any more as to what exactly
is sacred and what exactly
is profane; not clear
who is in and who is out; who is included and who is left behind.
Grace on the loose blurs and erases the lines.
Only when the temple was
sacked, and narrow, exclusive and oppressive traditional religious
practices turned topsy-turvy, did Jesus commend his spirit to God and
die. It's Luke's version of John's
"It is finished."
The
audacity of God!
How dare God do such a
thing! How
dare God blur our
neatly drawn lines between sacred and profane.
How dare God
tinker with our carefully controlled belief systems.
How dare God
crack open our carefully crafted God boxes.
God will no longer be confiscated, isolated, and mediated
by narrow and arrogant human thinking anymore.
Just try and imagine:
grace running loose in the world; cascading through life like a tidal
wave, washing
indiscriminately over the sacred and profane, saints and sinners, good
and bad alike? Compassion,
acceptance, social justice and inclusivity running rampantly out of
control. Just imagine such a world!
Some did and tragically, it
was too much for
others - maybe for most. Indiscriminate grace was seen to be dangerous
and too risky; too out of control.
Much of the history of Christian Church ever since could
be described has an attempt to stitch the curtain of the temple
back together again; to wrest control of grace back from God; to mediate
it narrowly and exclusively using confining institutionally imposed
beliefs and doctrinal formulas- insuring that only the defined-deserved
receive it.
I have to wonder what Jesus
would say and do if he were to walk among us again and see much of what
has been proclaimed and done in his name down through the centuries
since? I suppose he
would probably do what he did the first time: come announcing and
embodying the Kingdom of God; preaching the inclusive and lavish love of
God's kingdom; lifting up the least and the last that have been
oppressed by the domination systems of our day.
He would be especially annoyed with the strictly religious who
narrowly mediate God's grace.
And they would be annoyed with him, and would probably conspire
to do away with him; and in some way, shape or form he would go to the
cross all over again.
But he is not here in the
flesh to do it again, but we
are! And, my
friends, that's the point!
We are now his
hands and feet. Will his
heart and soul live on - in and through us?
As his followers and disciples it is up to us to take up our
cross; to love lavishly and passionately for the sake of the Kingdom of
God; to make sure that curtain remains in rags; to see to it that God's
grace is set loose in the world.
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